


Tresillo

by Spoon888



Series: Twitter Warm Up Prompt Fills [13]
Category: Transformers - All Media Types, Transformers: Prime
Genre: Gen, Humor, Mischief, Pets, Pranks and Practical Jokes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-07
Updated: 2020-08-07
Packaged: 2021-03-05 20:55:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,227
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25771684
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Spoon888/pseuds/Spoon888
Summary: Starscream gets his trine back. Megatron realises a little too late that he is now terribly outnumbered.
Relationships: Skywarp & Starscream & Thundercracker (Transformers)
Series: Twitter Warm Up Prompt Fills [13]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1719604
Comments: 21
Kudos: 253





	Tresillo

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Cheshire_Hearts](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cheshire_Hearts/gifts).



> For @Whirlybird226 on twitter

A full trine functioned more efficiently than a lone seeker - was Shockwave's abridged concluding statement after a week long study on the Problem Of Starscream. 

It was an opinion Soundwave wordlessly agreed on -his mask playing multiple pieces of footage displaying various trine's performing advanced aerial manoeuvres in perfect synchronisation, decimating enemy forces as if their destruction were merely a backdrop to their choreographed dance, over and over again, until Megatron finally gave in and said he would _think_ about it. 

He hadn't been pushed into making any hasty decisions of course, because _Lord Megatron_ was not a mech to be bullied or manipulated. He carefully considered the evidence put to him.

He did _not_ , as Knock Out seemed to like implying, 'cave in faster than an illegal Tsiehshian mine'. 

But with hindsight, he could swallow his pride enough to admit his decision in summoning Thundercracker and Skywarp to Earth so they could rejoin their nightmarish trine-leader and _ideally_ , mellow him out, had not exactly gone ...entirely to plan. 

In his defence (of which there were many defences) he could not recall Thundercracker and Skywarp ever having been so ...lively. In his (admittedly dark-energon tainted) memory, they had simply existed as two appealing seeker-shaped shadows flanking Starscream's bombastic personality, never speaking beyond pleasantly brisk ' _Yes sir'_ s and reverent ' _Of course, my lord Megatron_ 's. They were supposed to be _good_ influences. Calming. Therapeutic. Handling Starscream's manic episodes of treachery so he no longer had to. 

But _this_ wasn't management! The only reason Starscream wasn't now a problem was because his personality glitches were being _eclipsed_ by that of his infuriating brethren. 

And now Megatron was having to exist with the horror of knowing that of all the seekers aboard the Nemesis, _Starscream_ was the best behaved. 

Starscream! 

He was still the simpering, scheming snake, of course. But at least _he_ wasn't pushing upwards of half a dozen Vehicons down the elevator shafts under the guise of their murders being pranks! At least _he_ wasn't smuggling every variety of native Earth fauna aboard the ship and squirrelling them away in the most inappropriate of places where they could jump out at any unsuspecting mech popping into the supply closet for a fresh tub of polish. At least _he_ -

"AaaargHHHHHHH!" A anguished scream carried through the ship, all the way up to where Megatron was sat slumped in his throne on the Observation Level, trying to will his latest seeker-induced processor-ache away.

It had sounded vaguely like Knock Out. Which could only mean one thing: incoming. 

Megatron counted down from ten in his head and right on cue, Knock Out came barging in with a chainsaw in one hand and a rusty length of chain in the other, looking ready to do some damage. He was also sporting a great big splodge of yellow across his chest plate and the lower half of his face, ruining that pristine finish he cared _so_ much about he seemed to think it was a personality trait.

"That's IT!" The medic's shout echoed across the throne room, his optics two great big round deranged circles of light. "I can't take this anymore! I'm defecting to the Autobots!" 

Megatron glared at him through the claws covering the top half of his face. "Doctor," he began in a low and stained voice. "Your _tone_." 

"You don't understand," Knock Out protested breathlessly, so overwrought he appeared close to tears now. He, like Megatron, driven to his own unique brand of insanity. "This paint _stains_. I'll wash it off and I'll be- be-"

He struggled to finish the sentence. "I will be _orange_." 

"There are worse things to be than _orange_ ," Megatron wondered why he was allowing himself to become invested in this conversation. 

Perhaps he was simply so desperate for conversation with anyone, about _anything_ , so long as they were not the three seekers so over-involved in each other's business they couldn't seem to talk about anything that didn't involve their 'cycles'?! Whatever awful seeker-issue _that_ was. 

Primus forbid they include him in a conversation anyway. All too busy comparing heel height and wing shapes, or taking about pressure systems and cloud formations, and on one hateful occasion, their dreams and the meanings behind them. 

"Please understand Lord Megatron, I cannot work in these conditions," Knock Out pleaded, approaching the throne. He wisely dropped the 'weapons' before he got within three metres of Megatron, well aware of what the subconscious battle programming of a former gladiator could do to a mech, and reached into his subspace with a disgusted expression to pull something out. His trump card. "I found this ... _rodent_ nesting inside one of my tool boxes." 

Megatron peered at the animal. He was no great expert on Earth fauna, but he was quite sure it was too big to be a rodent. At least, he hoped it was. It blinked up at him with big brown eyes framed by a mask of black fur. It had a long bushy tail, ringed black and white. It was also wearing a collar. 

Megatron looked to Knock Out. 

"He's named it 'Bandit'," Knock Out scowled. 

Megatron didn't need to ask to know who 'he' was. 

"You must value yourself very highly to come in here making demands of _me_ ," Megatron decided to set the seeker-problem to one side for now, and deal with Knock Out's outlandish ultimatum. "What would you have me do, Doctor? Punish them? So that would they feel compelled to rebel and cause me yet more trouble? You realise there are _three_ of them?" 

Knock Out looked uncomfortable, now recovered enough from the shock of being splattered yellow and becoming besieged by small pets to realise shouting at _Megatron_ had been a mistake. 

He made one last appeal. "For the sake of the five Vehicons tragically crushed in the elevator shaft three days ago, can you not at least separate them?" 

Megatron frowned at Knock Out's desperate, pleading expression. 

He _could_ separate the trine. Set things back to the way they had been. 

But for all the unnecessary pranks, the tragic Vehicon massacres, the plethora of animal species wandering the halls and chewing through the Nemesis's wiring, the Autobots had never been so run off their wheels. Megatron hadn't been forced into a retreat _once_ since the Elite Trine had reformed. An Autobot couldn't so much as show their face outside of whatever little hole they hid themselves away in without his seekers' raining fire down upon them. 

A part of Megatron withered away inside when he realised the preservation of his own sanity paled in comparison to his desire for victory. 

"No," he said wearily. "The seekers stay." 

Knock Out looked like his processor had glitched for a moment. He stood staring at Megatron as if frozen in time. 

When suddenly he blinked, threw up his arms, and turned neatly on his heel. "It was an honour serving with you, Big M!" He called with forced joviality. "If you need me, I'll be at the Autobots!" 

Megatron stopped himself short of asking to come with him. 

Somewhere within the ship a dog barked, and two seconds later there was a terrified scream as another Vehicon 'fell' down the elevator shaft.

Primus, Megatron began massaging the sides of his helmet, they'd better win this pitted war fast. He was running out of drones. 


End file.
